In all my bike rides, I’ve never had a flat tire, but I had so many in my first car (a ’73 Opal Manta) that I got so I could change a flat in 8 minutes. So this post isn’t about literal flat tires. Today at least. I’m talking about those proverbial flat tires we all get along the way.
Here we are, traveling about life’s journey, hopefully enjoying a lovely view and then it happens. Something punctures our tire and there we sit. Unable to move forward.
Today I give thanks to the many folks who’ve come to my aid, patching my flats.
Some of those flat-patchers had bigger jobs than others, coming along as my tire blew-out in dozens of pieces. Others were able to just give me a breath of air to send me along my way again. Some sat with me alongside the road while I waited to get going again. And some picked up my broken bike and carried me until I could make it again.
Friends in elementary school who consoled me over math mistakes. Friends in high school who went for late-night nacho runs. Friends in college who brought vanilla Hagen Daaz and two spoons. Friends who brought casseroles after sadness and movies after surgeries. Friends who send private messages via social media just to give a cyber hug or tell me I’m not alone. Friends who listen, even in the darkest of nights when my words are obscured by tears and heart-logic.
Thank you. You’ve patched me up and sent me back out there on my journey. And in doing so, you’ve made a difference.
For many of us who always have one toe dipping in the pool of depression and all its dark tendencies, it is only because someone took the time to help us in even a small way that we are still here.
Today is Spirit Day. A day when many wear purple in solidarity with the LGBTQ community and take a stand against bullying.
I am a straight woman. I don’t know what it is like to be LGBTQ. But I do know what it feels like to love a person as a lover and as a friend.
I was bullied in high school for a short period of time but then one person broke ranks and talked to me. Sat with me at lunch. Became my friend in spite of what the other kids thought. It made a difference.
I have struggled with depression and self-harm for as long as I can remember. The people who have noticed, broken ranks with a world too busy to stop and care, have kept me here, living in spite of many, many times wanting to not be.
Please notice those around you. Patch the flat tires of others or wait with them until help arrives.
My tires are more colorful than you can imagine…patched together more brightly than Joseph’s coat ever was. Those patches are little bits of all the people who cared enough to stop and now I carry them with me along this journey.
ps. This is unedited. I didn’t plan on writing this post — it just happened. Sometimes words are like that. They just tumble out of us needing to be spoken. So there’s probably lots of errors and goofy bits. Try to overlook them, okay? If I edit it, I may not leave it up. Sometimes raw is just how it has to be.